Everything spun, twisting and twisting again. Then, with a flash of light, he was back—inside the chamber of Apophis.
It felt almost good to return. Almost. Not when the first thing waiting for him was that one-eyed monstrosity, already fixing its blind gaze on him.
"Ah… you took longer this time," the serpent hissed. "Where were you hiding, little mouse?"
Eros checked himself quickly. Arms, chest, legs—everything in place. In fact, he almost felt… stronger. So he allowed himself a crooked grin, tilted his head, and shrugged. "Needed a bathroom break. You know how it is."
Apophis didn't exactly have a sense of humor. Or if he did, it wasn't a forgiving one. The serpent lunged forward, jaws wide, faster than stone breaking loose from a cliff.
Eros had no scars to guide him this time, no reminders of past mistakes burned into his skin. But he had already died to this god more times than he cared to count. Reflex carried him. He dove backward, barely escaping the strike. The air itself split where the fangs struck.
He hit the ground hard near the chamber's doors. For now, the chains still bound Apophis, keeping him from crossing the threshold. That didn't mean Eros felt safe. Not when the god could simply spit acid and melt him into green sludge.
"No thanks," he muttered, breath shallow.
If he wanted to survive—if he wanted to claw his way out of this cursed book and back into the real world—he had to end it here. But alone? That was impossible.
"Cerberus, attack!" he shouted with all his strength.
Nothing happened.
«Shit. Did I do it wrong? Loki didn't scam me, did he?»
The serpent's laughter cracked through his skull, sharp enough to make his vision swim. "Mouse, did you truly think I would be distracted by such nonsense? What use would your hound be here?"
Eros swallowed, heat crawling up his throat. «Great. Now I feel ridiculous.»
Things were about to get ugly. He barely dodged as Apophis spewed another stream of venom, sprinting for the cover of a column. Even so, a few droplets seared into his shoulder, burning through what was left of his tattered clothes and hissing against skin.
"Ahhh—damn it!" He clenched his teeth, hissing between breaths. "Loki, if you're listening, I could really use that hand right about now!"
The answer came instantly. That honey-smooth voice brushed his ear, intimate as breath, though he knew the chamber was empty save for him and the god. The hairs on his neck rose.
"My dear Eros," Loki purred. "To summon Cerberus, you don't shout into the void. You call with your will. Focus, as you do when calling your diary. That's all."
That actually made sense. More sense than yelling at empty air, anyway.
Heart hammering, he shut his eyes for half a second. Apophis was already slithering closer, massive coils scraping the stone, but Eros forced himself to focus.
«Cerberus… Cerberus, come to me!»
He didn't have the luxury of waiting to see if it worked. The serpent's tail smashed through the column he had been hiding behind, stone exploding. The impact hurled him across the floor. He rolled until his body skidded to a stop in the center of the chamber, exposed, daggers barely still in his grip.
Apophis loomed over him, fangs dripping, voice a cruel whisper. "Time to end this little game, human. You've amused me, but—"
The sentence broke.
Because at that moment, a portal tore open behind the god, shadows bleeding into shape.
Eros froze, stunned.
Apophis twisted, but too late.
From the darkness leapt a monstrous hound, massive, armored in scars, three heads snapping with fury. Cerberus.
Two jaws clamped down on the serpent's body, another lunged for his thrashing coils. The beast dragged Apophis sideways with brute force, shaking the chamber with every violent snap.
Eros could only stare, wide-eyed, breath caught in his chest. For the first time since this nightmare began, the god was not the predator.
And Cerberus had answered his call.
The sound of its arrival was more than noise—it was judgment. Three heads roared in unison, a sound so colossal it made the walls shiver and the stone itself remember fear. Dust cascaded from the ceiling. The cracked murals of serpents, already half-erased by time, split further as if even the paintings refused to witness what came next.
Apophis writhed. His pale eyes flashed with rage and disbelief as he struck at the hound's neck. Cerberus clamped harder. Fangs like iron spikes sank into scales and ripped them open, spilling a fountain of black ichor.
The serpent shrieked. It wasn't the smug hiss of a god… it was the wounded cry of something that had finally realized it could bleed.
Eros staggered upright, daggers tight in his fists, his breath jagged. He couldn't look away. «Holy s… He's actually losing. This monster—my monster—is tearing him apart like a chew toy.»
For one glorious instant, the balance of power tilted.
Apophis lashed out, coils slamming into stone with enough force to turn pillars into gravel. Each strike shook the temple like an earthquake. Cerberus was smashed into a wall, rubble raining down, but the hound dug in deeper. Three pairs of eyes burned like coals, unblinking. With a roar, it launched forward again, dragging the god back toward the fractured floor.
The green veins etched across the chamber flared, glowing brighter as Apophis fought harder. Venom poured in torrents from his fangs, sizzling across stone, filling the air with choking fumes. Wherever it splashed, the ground dissolved into bubbling pits that smoked like acid lakes.
"Careful!" Eros shouted, though he wasn't sure if he meant Cerberus or himself. He dove aside, barely escaping a spray that would have melted him to bone. His chest heaved. His flame pulsed faster, stronger, reminding him that he was still part of this fight, whether he wanted to be or not.
Loki's voice slithered through his skull, smooth and amused. "Marvelous, isn't he? Fierce, loyal, everything Hades built him to be. Don't waste this, boy. The serpent is vulnerable now. Strike at the eye. Find the cracks."
Eros sneered, sweat stinging his eyes. "Yeah, thanks for the tip, coach."
He sprinted forward, weaving between coils thicker than trees. The floor quaked under every thrash. Heat, stench, noise—it was suffocating. But he'd been here before. He'd died here before. This time, he wasn't alone.
Cerberus tore another chunk from the serpent's side, ichor spraying across the floor in rivers. One head clamped on the god's throat, shaking savagely, while the others pinned coils and tail, holding Apophis like a beast finally chained.
The serpent shrieked again, venom bubbling down his fangs, but the fury in his movements had grown sloppy, frantic.
Eros saw the opening.
He clambered up the thrashing coils, daggers flashing. Steel sank into soft flesh between scales, each cut spraying him with black blood. His arms trembled, but he didn't stop. «Come on. Bleed for me. I'm not dying here again. Not today.»
Apophis twisted, head swinging toward him. For a split second, Eros saw his reflection in that ruined eye—small, broken, prey. Jaws opened wide, dripping venom.
But Cerberus yanked the god sideways, slamming his skull against the stone. The impact thundered through the chamber, cracks spidering across the floor. Eros clung to the serpent's hide, teeth gritted, refusing to be thrown.
"This is so unfair it almost feels good," he muttered, face streaked with ichor and grit.
He drove a dagger into the ruined eye. The socket burst in a wash of foul liquid. Apophis convulsed, shrieking so loud the temple seemed to buckle.
Cerberus answered with a roar that shook the ruins. All three heads pulled together, bending the serpent's body until bones splintered. Blood gushed, staining the walls black.
The chamber collapsed further. Whole slabs of ceiling thundered down. One nearly crushed Eros, but he rolled free, hitting the ground hard on his shoulder. Pain flared hot, but he pushed himself up, stumbling toward the god's massive head.
Loki whispered, delighted. "Yes. Strike deeper. Twist the knife. End this farce."
Eros spat. "Fine. But shut up while I do it."
Cerberus slammed the serpent's skull into the floor again, pinning him down. Apophis hissed weakly, voice breaking. "Impossible… chained… hound…"
Eros climbed the god's head, slipping on blood, daggers burning in his grip. The ember in his chest flared bright, alive.
He raised both blades high, every muscle screaming, and plunged them into the serpent's skull.
The crack was sickening—bone splitting, flesh tearing, ichor bursting in a flood. The serpent writhed one last time, the convulsion rattling the chamber to its core. The veins of green light flared, then went dark.
Apophis gave a final hiss, broken and thin. Then he stilled.
Silence fell.
Only Eros's ragged breaths filled the chamber. He stumbled back, blades dripping, chest heaving. The god's corpse slumped across the ruined floor, massive coils collapsing like fallen walls.
Cerberus threw back all three heads and howled. The roar shook the ruins again, tearing the last stones loose from the ceiling. It was a cry of victory, of domination, of loyalty fulfilled. Then, as the echo faded, the hound's form dissolved into shadow, drawn back to the abyss from which he'd come.
Ten minutes were gone.
Eros dropped to his knees, soaked in ichor, lungs screaming for air. He laughed once, bitter and breathless. «God-killer. Who would've guessed?»
The diary shimmered into the air before him, pages glowing faintly. Ink carved itself across the parchment, merciless and final.
The voice filled his skull, cold and absolute:
"Congratulations, Reader. You have completed the plot."
Eros laughed again, harsher this time, and collapsed onto his back. He stared at the dead serpent sprawled across the ruined chamber and felt the weight of survival crush him flat.
For once, the silence belonged to him.